What's Wrong with Purple Saddles?
by Ephidel
Summary: I hope you guys haven't heard this one...


No, I'm not back – not that I was ever really here - but I mean I'm not continuing any stories, I just had this idea (though someone might have done this already, I don't know), and I had to put it out there. HAHAHAHA

***

What's Wrong with Purple Saddles?

When Sain was but a squire of 11 years of age, his assistance was solicited to procure saddles for the horses. At the equipment shop, the shopkeeper and he exchanged the usual pleasantries, and then got down to business:

"Yes, sir. I'd like 5 high-quality saddles please."

"That'll be 200 gold. You want 'em in any particular color?"

Sain, having no idea what color these saddles were supposed to be, decided to pick at his liberty.

"Red, green, black, white, and purple, please."

"Right. Red, green, black, white and… PURPLE??!?!?!??!?!? GET OUT OF THIS STORE RIGHT NOW!"

And with that, the owner promptly evicted Sain from the shop.

Kicked out of the store in a most ungracious manner, Sain could only ponder,

"What's wrong with purple saddles?"

* * *

That question had bothered Sain for some time after. But he put it out of his mind soon after. However, the question would remain, waiting for the time when it could be answered.

* * *

Sain and Kent remained good friends even after the final battle with Nergal and the dragons. One day after setting up camp, Sain decided to pop the question:

"Hey Kent, I have a question for you."

"Yes Sain, what is it?"

"What's wrong with purple saddl-"

**SUPPORT LEVEL A**--- **SUPPORT LEVEL B**

"Hm…" Thought Sain, "That was odd, I didn't get to finish my question."

"Hey Kent, what's wrong with purple-"

**SUPPORT LEVEL B**--- **SUPPORT LEVEL C**

"How bizarre!" Thought Sain.

"Sorry, Sain," Kent replied, "I couldn't understand you. It almost sounded like you were asking about purple saddles." He finished with a chuckle

"What's wrong with purple saddles?"

**SUPPORT LEVEL C**--- **NO SUPPORT LEVEL**

Kent stood up abruptly.

"Sain, you have gone way over the line. I thought we were good friends before, but now that's over. Please leave."

Sain, utterly confused, rose as well.

"Kent, what's wrong? It's just a simple question that I've wanted to get answered for a while now."

"Leave now, before I lose my temper."

"Kent-"

"NOW!"

And with that, Sain was forced to leave his best friend, but not without an insatiable desire for the truth behind purple saddles. What could be the answer?

* * *

Later, Sain found himself before the scene of a battle.

"Ah!" He thought, "Perhaps if I aid one side, I shall be able to find my answer!"

Being extremely battle-ready, Sain charged in with a flourish, thus attracting a lot of attention, and also managing to save a cavalier who was surrounded.

"Hey, Mr. Paladin sir! You saved me! Are you here to help?"

"Yes fellow knight! In exchange for the answer to one simple question."

"Oh, what is it?"

"What's wrong with-"

"Look out!"

Sain deftly dodged a deadly arrow.

"Sorry, didn't catch that!"

"Right, what's wrong with-"

However, his query was once again interrupted by the sound of swords clashing, as the cavalier was forced to block the attack of a mercenary.

"You'll have to speak louder! I can't hear you over the noise of all this fighting!"

"I said, WHAT'S WRONG WITH PURPLE SADDLES!!??"

Everyone on the field stopped fighting: axes were left mid-swing, arrows hanged suspended in the air, and a thunderbolt was half a foot away from frying a thief, who managed to look angry at Sain, confused, and terrified at the same time.

"Uhh…." Sain managed.

A generic bandit stepped towards Sain.

"Hey you! The guy asking about purple saddles! Yeah, you! Get outta here! We don't want the likes of you here!"

In the middle of this, the thief, who was about to get zapped, shifted his eyes sneakily and took two steps to the right.

The cavalier Sain had saved also chimed in.

"I thought you were cool, man – I thought you were cool!"

"B-but! I saved your life!" Sain stammered, "Can't I just have an answer to my-"

"I'd rather die."

Faced with that blunt response, Sain was forced to leave, as the fighters continued their battle: an axe was deflected, an arrow made the cavalier that Sain had saved get his wish, and a thunderbolt struck nothing but air.

* * *

"Gah! What will I do now?" Sain cried out.

Thinking deeply, he decided to go to Sacae. Perhaps the ancient Sacaen elders would be able to answer his question.  


* * *

"What's wrong with purple saddles?"

"Ahh… purple saddles – if you wish to find your answer, you must first endure a dangerous trial. Are you sure you wish to continue?" Queried the Sacaen Elders.

"Yes." Sain replied with conviction.

The Elders motioned for Sain to follow into a large dark tent.

After a dangerous trial that involved far too many paddles, Sain emerged sporting a bruised bottom.

"Okay, now can I know what's wrong with purple saddles?"

The Elders looked at each other sagely. Turning to him, they stated,

"Should you wish to find your answer, you must travel to the city of Bulgar and seek out a merchant known as The Finder. He will be able to help you."

"Wow. Thank you _so _much." Sain flatly said.

"Be warned, they say he charges an arm and leg."

* * *

At Bulgar, Sain had more than enough trouble just finding The Finder, but he managed.

"What's wrong with purple saddles?"

"Harrumph!"

The grubby man stared at Sain searchingly. After a moment, he nodded and said,

"Normally, I'd ask you to chop off your arm and your leg but my daughter happens to have been kidnapped yesterday."

"Oh, well, um… goody?"

"Well, if you bring her back to me, safe and sound, I'll help you out."

"Well, of course I will then!"

"Okay then. She's being held in a deep, trap-filled, bandit-infested dungeon on the outskirts of town. I'd hire a band of mercenaries, but I don't want to spend that kind of money – not in this economy, no way. You'll have to spend money on hiring men yourself."

"What? I feel insulted! Suggesting that I need to hire mere mercenaries to assist me? Why, I'll save your daughter on my own!"

The Finder's eyes bugged out,

"You must not be sane!"

"Of course I'm Sain! Do you need to see a nametag?"

And with that, Sain rode to the deep, trap-filled, bandit-infested dungeon on the outskirts of town.

Once there, he thought,

"I may as well avoid conflict if I can. I shall sneak stealthily to where the fair maiden is held."

So he left his trusty steed, and removed his noisy armor and possessions, taking only his sword with him. Overhearing some patrolling bandits who happened to be discussing quite loudly the location of the hostage and how to get there, he managed to find the way through the deep, trap-filled, bandit-infested dungeon on the outskirts of town. He also found it easy to avoid notice in that guards did not seem to discover him as long as they were not facing him, as well as the fact that they patrolled either one way then the other, or in circles around objects.

At last at the cell that held The Finder's daughter, Sain sliced open the bars of the cell and began escorting the maiden back through the deep, trap-filled, bandit-infested dungeon on the outskirts of town. Sain felt as though he should ask her if she were safe and sound, but instead, the only thing he could ask was:

"What's wrong with purple saddles?"

At this the maiden's eyes widened and she recoiled. In fact she started to scream, alerting all the bandits in the deep, trap-filled, bandit-infested dungeon on the outskirts of town.

"Horsefeathers!" Sain cursed, and he fought off every single bandit in the deep, trap-filled, bandit-infested dungeon on the outskirts of town.

Luckily, the maiden happened to escape unharmed. She also happened to take Sain's horse and possessions in the process. And so, Sain walked back to town, grumbling "Horsefeathers" to himself all the while.

* * *

He found The Finder again who was conversing with his daughter.

"Oh Daddy, it was horrible! I mean, the bandits were nice, but then this scary man came that rescued me asked me about purple saddles of all things! I managed to steal his stuff though…"

"Horsefeathers!" Sain interjected.

Both The Finder and his daughter looked at him strangely.

"Oh, sorry," said Sain, "I just felt I had to say something. By the way, about the horse and things you borrowed…"

The Finder stood up.

"Excuse me, I thought you might have wanted your answer, but I suppose your things are more important…"

"No no! Please tell me, you can have the horse, you can have the things!"

"Hmm. Very well. Here is what I shall tell you."

"Yes?"

"Go to the **7-11** across the street. There your answer shall be waiting."

"**7-11**? What in blazes is a-"

But sure enough, right across the street in plain view, was a **7-11**, resplendent in its green-ish, reddish, orange-ish glory.

All queries forgotten, Sain went into a mad dash towards the **7-11**.

"I'll finally know the meaning behind purple saddles. Yes!"

He went faster – he was almost there, he was so close-

**BAM**

He was run down by a speeding oxen cart.

"Horsefeathers!" was the last thing the cart driver heard before the crash.

And the moral of the story is… look both ways before you cross the street!

* * *

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH I hope you guys remember that one!


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